China got Pakistan to send terrorists to gun down tourists in Kashmir in order to drag India into war, all with the aim of scotching India’s chances of taking business away from it, but the Modi government thwarted its evil designs by walking away from the conflict – or so the latest WhatsApp forward I received claims.
It seems supporters of the ruling party, after viciously attacking anyone who argued against war, are now straining hard to justify the Modi government’s decision to abort it. Except, they seem to be hard-pressed to explain why the government, knowing this was all happening at China’s behest, walked into the trap to begin with.
Since April 22, when a small group of terrorists swept through a meadow in Kashmir and gunned down 25 tourists after identifying them by religion, my colleagues and I have tracked the news with unease. For days, in every news meeting, we spoke about the gathering storm – we did not know its shape, but we knew a military response from India was inevitable, despite the risk of retaliation from Pakistan and a spiral of conflict.
After all, this is the script that has been sold to the country, not once but twice before. First Uri in 2016, then Balakot in 2019 helped craft an image of Prime Minister Narendra Modi as the muscular leader under whom India’s armed forces boldly enter the enemy lines to kill. “Ghar mein ghus ke maara” won Modi a landslide victory in the 2019 election, never mind that as a recent Caravan cover story details, the Balakot strike was a military failure.
The recent hostilities between India and Pakistan are still shrouded in the fog of war. It will take a long time for the full facts to emerge in public, if they ever do. But as citizens, we should not shy away from asking questions about what Operation Sindoor achieved – after all, matters of war are too important to be left to politicians and generals.
Let’s start with the casus belli: the Pahalgam terror attack. Why did the government leave a meadow full of tourists completely unguarded?
According to reports, there was no security presence within a 5-km radius of Baisaran where the attack took place. Instead of admitting to a security lapse, the Union government, which is responsible for safeguarding the Kashmir Valley, tried to palm off blame to the local administration.
It claimed at an all-party meeting that no clearance had been sought to open the meadow to tourists. But local authorities swiftly denied this.
To deflect public anger over the government’s security failures, supporters of the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party launched “jan akrosh” rallies, whipping up nationalistic sentiment in favour of military action against Pakistan.
The result was Operation Sindoor on May 7 – late night strikes on nine locations in Pakistan and Pakistan-controlled Kashmir which the government claimed harboured terrorists. Understandably, for most Indians, news that the headquarters of the Jaish-e-Mohammad and the Lashkar-e-Taiba – organisations whose acts of terror have made them infamous in India – came as a moment of catharsis. The armed forces have now claimed that the strikes killed 100 terrorists, including some marquee names.
But even if this is true, the question remains: Will this act as a deterrent against future terror attacks?
Many security experts think the answer is no. Bombing out terrorist infrastructure is no guarantee against future attacks, as the United States learnt the hard way in Afghanistan. Closer home, the so-called surgical strikes in Uri in 2016 did not prevent the 2019 Pulwama attack, nor did the Balakot strike that followed prevent Pahalgam.
This is not to say India must tolerate acts of terror. But, as many have emphasised, dismantling the infrastructure of terror requires quiet, sustained work, not hasty action that could drag the country into war without preparation. From all accounts, before launching Operation Sindoor, the government had taken no measures to prepare civilians living in sensitive border regions for impending hostilities, let alone evacuate them to safer locations.
A display of bravado is no answer to terror – especially when your adversary has a formidable friend like China.
In the Galwan clash of 2020, Indian and Chinese soldiers may have fought each other with crude sticks and clubs, but the reason why India stepped back from the brink was because it knew the extent of Chinese capabilities. These capabilities have been steadily transferred to Pakistan. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute, 80% of Pakistan’s arms now come from China.
Modern warfare is technological. At the end of the recent hostilities, Indian armed forces have claimed the country’s air defence systems proved formidable, thwarting Pakistan’s attempts to strike military installations in the country. But Pakistan equally has claimed a major success, contending that it used Chinese jets to shoot down Indian planes, including a French-made Rafale. The Indian government has neither denied nor confirmed this – at an official briefing on Sunday, an Indian Air Force officer simply said losses are a part of combat.
But the Pakistani claim has attracted much international attention because if true, it signifies Chinese prowess against the West’s military dominance, as defence expert Sushant Singh explained in this interview to my colleague Shoaib Daniyal.
This raises the question: Did the government factor in Chinese weaponry before launching Operation Sindoor?
There is still a lot of debate surrounding the announcement of the ceasefire. The United States has taken credit for it, with President Donald Trump making the announcement, much to Modi’s embarrassment. The next day, Trump made it worse – his statement not only equated India and Pakistan, it even contained a reference to “concerning Kashmir”. For the Modi government, which has since 2019 crushed any expression of dissent in the Valley while showcasing it as a tourism success, there could not be a worse outcome than this.
This brings us to the next question: What larger objective did Operation Sindoor serve? If anything, it has shown that all it takes is a few terrorists to precipitate a crisis and drag a country of a billion people into war.
Twenty-six people fell to bullets in Pahalgam. An equal number of Indians have died in the aftermath of Operation Sindoor – 21 civilians, mostly in the Jammu region, along with five members of the armed forces.
The human cost of conflict might fall disproportionately on those living near the frontlines, but there are wider costs to be borne by all citizens. India was the second-largest importer of arms last year, second only to Ukraine. Escalating conflict will impose further economic pain.
Many Indians, fed a steady diet of false victories by the mass media, say they are ready to bear this pain. A tea seller in Ranchi told my colleague Nolina Minj, “We might suffer a little but in return Pakistan will be obliterated. After Operation Sindoor, I am awaiting Operation Mangalsutra.”
It is unclear what Operation Sindoor achieved. But it has revealed – once again – the cost of shrill nationalism.
